Oh, does he recognize that look. Even without proper human flexibility to his body language, Vexen recognizes that look easily. He's seen it in too many eyes before, far too many. He knows the silent and secret language of defeat, of despair. He knows what it's like to see someone break, utterly and irrevocably, without so much as a scratch on them. It's such a bittersweet moment, isn't it?

A Pyrrhic victory, at best. He has his pride, yes, or at least what remains of it. But at what cost? Will he be able to keep it?

"Of course. Carefully, now, heel-toe. Hold up the skirts, if you need to. Lift at the joints." He doesn't need to hear the last word to know what it is, and he doesn't need to make Kanji say it to understand. He simply takes Kanji's arm instead, grasping his bicep to help steady him. Ordinarily, it would be better to let him hold on, to get his balance himself--but unused to his body as he is? He's not going to have a strong enough grip, or fast enough reaction times to save himself if something does happen.

If nothing else, the calm instructions suggest Vexen has done this before, helping others figure out how to cope with their new form. Perhaps he's even crossdressed himself a few times, if he can offer tips on walking in skirts and heels.